


And We'll Go Together

by Frechi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Death, Hurt, Loss, M/M, Waiting at your bed for you to wake up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:29:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frechi/pseuds/Frechi
Summary: How far are you able to go for a loved one?
Kudos: 1





	And We'll Go Together

**Author's Note:**

> Fan Story to that pic:  
> https://twitter.com/apric0tfield/status/1254105252975898624?s=19
> 
> Pic's original creator:  
> https://twitter.com/apric0tfield?s=09  
> @apric0tfield
> 
> Thank you all to all the people who worked on this game and made this series just a bit more amazing than it already was.
> 
> Please do not use my content for anything!

Three times. Three times Felix had lost Sylvain. Three times he endured what was not endurable. Three times he saw his love shattering all over. Breaking his heart was enough for both of them to suffer like they lost all of their limbs, making them unuseful and a burden to their king. Even though the pain came through only hours after their break-up. Then losing him on the battlefield, when he was draped in this horrendous way, it shredded his heart. Making him choke with the things he missed. Because there could have been more. There could have been more! He didn't know, when he miraculously came back, if he was horrified or overwhelmingly happy. There was just this mess inside of him again that he could grasp. But when he disappeared so suddenly, it broke him down, one time too many. They spent an unbearable amount of time looking for their dearest friend. And when they found him, Felix just wanted to escape this hellhole named earth, the world he lived in did too much wrongs to his beloved orangette. When his erased mind called out for him in this weakened voice, he lost it. Everything was irrelevant, all the pain went numb, it died down. Grabbing his frozen hand, he tried to put ease inside his head, telling him he would be fine. He saw how his mind was slipping further away. And when they finally reached their castle, Sylvain not being in the condition to travel back to his own home, he spent every second of his own breath with the taller one. Sometimes squeezing his hand until its temperature would drop even more. Sometimes he laid down beside him, being as close as possible to his chest to be sure he was still breathing, that his heart was still beating. Sometimes just staring at his face, waiting for anything to happen, any twitch, any flutter of his lids. Even a quivering lip would have eased his own mind a bit. But he just laid there. And his chest wasn't even moving enough to see it lift and fall, his breathing too silent. Laying there....he just looked dead. And this torturing picture he endured to see every.day. drowned out the pain his losses before put him in. Where he thought it wasn't bearable before, he couldn't stand seeing him like this. But being absent and the image of Sylvain waking up and he wasn't there.... The conflict he was put in, being there was unbearable but not being there was just as unbearable, where he thought the pain he went through before was beyond endurance, he didn't even have words for what happened now. There were no colours or feelings, there was nothing that could describe it.  
His brother, his father, they tried to get him away for a moment, wanting to let him rest but taking him away was worse. He would scream and cry, choking on his own words. He would go dead silent suddenly, break down and plead. He would plead, plead and beg in such hauled and blurred words that it would sound like an ancient language, calling to the gods. So they left him, bringing him his meals, change of clothes but everything came out of the room untouched by him. He didn't eat, he didn't leave. He didn't sleep. Exceeding his limits by far, he came to a breaking point when his reserves where finally used up. He fell asleep.

It was a forced escape that opened up. Unknowingly Felix took it. And when he opened his eyes again, panicking because his beloved one could be dead. He was silenced when he didn't see the room they put him in to recover but a golden meadow. A hand reached down to him, a hand he knew all too well, squeezing it for days, weeks, he knew every little scar on it, the little mole in the gap of his index and middle finger. He knew the touch of his slightly boney knuckles and the pleasant scratching of his short nails. He knew this hand like it was his own. He knew the arm that it was attached to. He knew the body the arm was attached to. And he knew the face that looked at him. His smile shone as brilliant as he remembered, the orange of his hair gleamed when it was touched by the sun's rays. The hand he held out, a gesture of his warm personality.

Felix didn't do anything. His mind couldn't process. So Sylvain took the chance to lift him up in his arms before his darkette could complain how he always did when he expressed his love for him in small gestures, gifts, kisses. He lifted him up, a benumbed Felix, his body paralyzed that he couldn't move, an arm slipping out and dangling down. But when he took the darkette's hand, he felt it. The cruel coldness that refused to leave his hands, was finally gone. Instead there was this irresistable warmth, a warmth that always caressed Felix with just being there. He didn't refuse it. His confused body wouldn't refuse it, his empty mind couldn't refuse it.

"Took you long enough to get here" The sound of his voice. It was the sound of his voice. It was [his] voice. The melody that died down, that just vanished. And he could hear it. It reveberated inside his ears, his head, his heart. "Yeah," he mumbled, pressing his face to his body, burying it in his love he lost so many times, tears laying on his lashes when he took all that in that was gone from his side for too long while Sylvain carried him down the meadow with the glowing sky.

The golden world that opened its doors for them who suffered so much. It was the escape he pleaded and begged and cried for.

Dying of [his] unrecoverable condition while -his- mind couldn't bear any more of the sorrow and grievance. So it put itself down, shutting down -his- body that -he- starved to death.

They buried them together under the tree where they played at as kids, near the grassland verging on their garden, a meadow that bathed in the gold of the sun for just one hour in the evening.


End file.
